


Schoolboys

by lilzwinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-27 23:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilzwinchester/pseuds/lilzwinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where was he? He scratched his head, thinking; then, it dawned on him that he had no idea who he was. He tried thinking: who am I? He concentrated real hard, looking at his clothes for any clue whatsoever, but found none.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean looked around him. He didn't like school; hell, he never did. This was his first day at this new school, and already, he hated it; he hated the weird looks people gave him, "the new boy really looks weird" kinda look. He didn't understand why he HAD to go to school; Dad never calculated, never needed geography to find his way around towns...  
He saw his 8 year old brother, Sam, running around with others of his age... Sam was comfortable at school; he liked mixing with boys of his age, paying attention in class, getting good marks. Dean was completely different. He liked running around outside, hated thinking, and acted completely solo. He didn't care if he failed completely in a subject, school wasn't useful anyway, but the look his dad gave him when he failed a test made him fear getting bad marks.  
The bell rung, and he trudged along towards his class. The boys all looked at him, some whispering, others commenting on his clothes probably, or the way he acted. " What?!" Dean waited for an answer, but got none. Chickens, he thought to himself. He followed them as they entered the classroom, and went for the seat at the back, next to the window. The teacher came in and presented himself, introducing the subject he was teaching and all the usual crap. Dean wasn't listening, as always, looking out of the windows. He wished he were outside, with his dad. He wished his dad would teach him how to hunt properly, to use all the guns, learn a 'real man's' stuff instead of all this school shit.  
"- Hey Winchester!  
\- Yes sir?  
\- Do you see that door?! If you don't pay attention, you'll go out of this classroom, and get a punishment. " The boys of his class sneered and whispered. What did he do to them for them to act in this bitchy way?!

 

When class ended, he ran out of school, and waited for Sam to come out and join him. He saw him, hanging out with his new friends, laughing, joking, being a kid. Dean knew that even if the other kids had like him, he probably wouldn't be able to mix with them; he had seen way too many things to ever be able to be an innocent kid again. He went to fetch Sam.  
"Hey Sammy, you coming?" His brother sighed, picked up his bag and followed him. They walked to the little park not far from their newly rented home.  
"- Aren't we going home? Asked Sam.  
\- No, Dad isn't back yet, so we're waiting here, on this bench, till he gets home.  
\- Okay." They both sat on the bench, and Dean took out a chocolate bar that he shared with his little brother. The sat there, watching the passing cars, Sam occasionally asking the time, or when Daddy would come back. Suddenly, Dean saw their mum; there she was, on the opposite side of the street, her long blond hair flying in the wind, her hand stretching towards them. He jumped off the bench, his arms outstretched, and ran. And then, it was like everything was in slow motion. He saw the Impala on his right, and then a car honked, and he heard tires screech, and then he felt a searing pain as something hit him and everything went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

When he woke up, he looked around him, wondering. He didn't remember at all what had happened, what he was doing here. Where was he? He scratched his head, thinking; then, it dawned on him that he had no idea who he was. He tried thinking: who am I? He concentrated real hard, looking at his clothes for any clue whatsoever, but found none. He got up, and started walking around the hallways in this place...It looked like a hospital. There were old ladies in wheelchairs, young girls with broken arms and mums carrying their babies...He was in a hospital. Suddenly, at the end of a hall, he saw a little boy, that was somehow familiar, holding the hand of a man who also looked familiar, who was talking to a doctor.   
"- Daddy", pleaded the little boy, tugging at his father's sleeve," I wanna go see Dean... Can I see him? Please?" He had tears in his eyes, and he kept looking down the hallway, as if he was looking for someone.   
"- Not now, Sam, later." Said his father, before turning back to the doctor.  
The name Dean struck him as awfully familiar...Was he called Dean? He saw the daddy of that little boy called Sam whisper something into his ear, he saw Sam's disappointed face, as the doctor and his father started walking down the hallway, leaving him alone in the waiting room. He could see that little Sam's eyes slowly filling up with tears, as he sat down, and then overflow. The little boy wiped them off with his sleeves, with a decided look on his face. He got back up, and started walking down the hallway where his dad had left, and Dean followed him. The little boy suddenly stopped in front of a door, and looked, unable to move. His dad saw him, and came out of the room, angry.  
"- Sam! I told you to stay were you were and wait!  
\- Why is Dean like that? Asked Sam, horrified at the sight of his brother wrapped in so many bandages.   
\- Look, said his father, I know Dean looks a bit...weird right now, but you be a good boy, go back to your seat. Dean will be normal in a few days...  
\- He will?!" And Sam, reassured, walked back to the waiting room. Dean looked at Sam; how his Dad had said a few words and it had been all ok...did he even have a dad? He looked into the room, and saw himself, wrapped in bandages, with machines surrounding him, and he yelled of fright.


	3. Chapter 3

Was that what he was? A spirit? A person stuck between life and death? More dead than alive?Unconscious? He left the room, unable to stare at himself any longer. So he was called Dean, and these people were probably related to him. That little Sam, with his dad, they cared about him; at least, that warmed him up. To know people cared about him. He walked up some stairs, thinking about all that had happened. He wandered about, and realised that he had arrived in a place where there were only nurses and doctors. Suddenly, over there, was someone, someone lying on a kind of bed. Her wonderfully long blond hair covering her shoulders, her pale skin, even paler than usual, and her eyes, open, staring blankly at something on the ceiling. Some nurses sighed and covered her with a white sheet. He knew what that meant; it meant that person was dead. He felt a huge pang in his chest, and suddenly, he knew; he knew he was called Dean Winchester, the little Sam back there was his 8 year old brother, Sam Winchester, and his dad was called John Winchester. He also knew that person he had recognised was his mother. He ran to her, and flung the sheet covering her to the side, and saw that that dead person was not his mother...He sighed with relief. One of the nurse looked at the sheet on the floor.  
"- Hey Amy, why did you throw this sheet to the floor?   
\- I didn't throw it!  
\- Then who did?"   
The nurses looked around them, and seeing nobody around them, shrugged, and replaced the sheet. Dean started walking back towards the waiting room, eager to look at his little brother, feel some comfort. He saw him, drawing. He approached, and looked over his little brother's shoulder; he was drawing a burger, and under, he had written, in an uneven writing "For Dean, when he gets better". Dean smiled, and suddenly, bent down, and took a pen. Sam gasped, as seeing a 'flying pen' wasn't very common. Dean wrote on the drawing " thank you Sammy". Sam slowly read the words, taking them in. Dean paused, then wrote:" I'm right here little bro, but you can't see me." Sam read the words, chewing his pen nervously. He stretched out his hand, as if he was expecting to touch his big brother. Dean took Sam's hand and squeezed it affectionately, grateful for the human contact. Sammy jumped at first, scared, but then squeezed back, as a broad smile crossed his face. Dean took a pen, and sat next to his brother, drawing; if they were other spirits in this room, they would have seen two brothers, drawing happily next to each other, one human, one spirit.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean didn't want to leave his brother, he really didn't. But an irresistible force was telling him to, pulling him. Suddenly, everything was black. He wanted to open his eyes, but couldn't. He concentrated, putting all the strength he had in his eyelids, and tried lifting them. All he could do was slightly lift them, enough to see some light, and some figures next to him. He felt really, really weak, and he had no control over his muscles. He heard voices; they were a blur at first, but then, he could clearly hear the doctor going on about how he had suffered head injury, and that his body had received too big a shock to recover normally. He heard his dad agreeing, but Dean knew him well, and he knew, by the tone of his voice, that he was really anxious. But then, all went black again, and he felt sucked by an irresistible force; he was then back where he was, a few minutes ago, next to Sammy.   
"- Sammy!   
\- Yes daddy?  
\- Dean is better, do not worry.  
\- I'm not worrying. He told me-"   
Dean whacked his brother's arm, as he knew, for some reason, that only his brother could know he was there. Sam understood, and stopped talking.   
It was night time, and Sam had to go back to their rented flat. He turned to where Dean was, and said " I'll be back tomorrow for you, Dean, I promise." And he left, following his dad, who was waiting near Dean's room. After they were gone, Dean went to see himself. How ironic this is, he thought, 'me visiting myself'. He stood in the doorway, looking at himself. He looked really pale, his hair all dishevelled, his face lifeless, and in the badly light room, it looked like his skin was green. He shivered. That's what I'd look like if I were dead, thought Dean. He thought that maybe he won't get away from this. Maybe he'll die. And he realised how life was a gift; he realised he should have enjoyed all the wonderful things about his life, been kinder to Sammy , nicer to other kids. He swore to himself that if he made it out of all this alive, he'd be nicer with people, enjoy more the presence of others. What if when he got hit by the car was the last time he had been human? What if that chocolate bar he had shared with Sammy on the bench was the last thing he had eaten? He walked away from the room, terrorised by all these overwhelming thoughts. And there, barely a few metres away, he saw her. She smiled; he smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

She was just how he remembered her; her beautiful, shiny blond hair, her face radiating kindness...She stretched out her arms, and he ran into them, just like before the accident, but this time, he didn't get hit by anything...She held him tight, and so did he. They both stayed a few minutes like this, Dean taking time to remember all the feelings he had when he was around her. He finally said:  
"- I love you Mom...  
\- I love you too, Dean." They were silent, once again, just enjoying each other's presence. Finally, Dean let go, and asked:  
"- What are you doing here Mom?  
\- I'm watching over you, dear.  
\- Well I'm glad you are." She took her son by the hand, and brought him to his room, were his body was lying, still unconscious. Dean looked at his Mom, puzzled. She looked at him, a serious expression on her face, and said:  
"Dean, you're between life and death right now, and I want you to fight; fight for survival. Don't let your Daddy and Sammy down, ok? They need you, you can't let go." And she slowly faded away.  
"Mom!" Dean screamed, panicked. He wanted her to be there, just a little longer. But she disappeared. He sighed, and looked back at himself. Fight? What did she mean? 

He went to the waiting room, and sat down on the seat he had sat on a few hours ago with Sam. He wondered if spirits could sleep. They didn't; if they couldn't eat, how could they sleep? So he stayed there, in the waiting room, till Sammy and Dad arrived. John went straight to his son's room, whilst Sammy waited in the waiting room; he took out some paper and pens, and waited. He looked around him, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he'll see his brother. Suddenly one of his pen started 'flying'. Dean was here. He smiled, and took a pen too, and wrote, " Are you better Dean?" His brother smiled at his shaky kid's writing. He bent down, and wrote " A little...what about you?" Sammy smiled, happy to 'hear' from his big brother. He missed him; he missed being bossed around by him, because (even though he hated it) Dean was nearly always right when he did or said something. His Dad was happier when Dean was around; he remembered how he used to hate how Dean was always praised, how he was always considered 'the best'. He had always felt like a background, someone who was never good enough, compared to his brother. But he missed being lead by his big brother, he missed his jokes, his presence. He answered "I'm ok, but I miss you." Dean felt a pang of pain; his brother missed him. He wanted to hug his Sammy, tell him everything was going to be ok, that he'd be healed in a few days, but he couldn't, as he himself didn't believe it entirely. Suddenly, like yesterday, he felt himself sucked into a pit of darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

He felt a searing pain, a pain so strong it overtook his whole body, and he had no idea which part of his body the pain came from. He felt an incredible force pushing, squeezing him, asphyxiating him. He couldn't breathe, and it felt horrible. This is it, I'm going to die, he thought, this is what death is. But then, the idea of giving up, when Mom had asked him to fight, was just impossible. I'm going to fight, for Mom and for Dad and for Sammy! And he fought; he tried and tried to breathe, he fought against that irresistible pressure; he put all his strength in this, and he prayed, he prayed to his mom. Please Mom, help me, I need your help to survive. He thought of all the good moments he had spent with his family, and he knew he wouldn't let go that easy, never. And suddenly, the pressure was gone, and he could breathe. He tried opening his eyes; he saw his dad, looking anxiously at him, and Sammy, holding his hand, a hopeful expression on his face. Dean smiled, weakly; he made it. He fought against death, and won. 

 

Dean spent the following two weeks in hospital; Sam came everyday after school, and did his homework next to his big brother. Sam thought Dean had became nicer than before, enquiring about his everyday life and little details he normally wouldn't even have realised.   
That monday, Sammy came to the hospital, like all the other days, passed through the reception, where the receptionist- who was now his friend, talked to him a little, and he went up the stairs. He started walking down the corridor, and stopped. He saw her, right there, the most pretty girl he had ever seen. She was talking to her father probably, her long curly blond hair falling on her shoulder, her bright blue eyes fixed on her dad, and he thought her smile was illuminating the whole place. He stared at her, till she went into a room and closed the door. It was like his little dream bubble had burst. He snapped out of his little world, and walked into Dean's room.  
"- Hey Sammy.  
\- Hmmm..  
\- Are you ok?  
\- Hmmm...  
\- Huh..." Dean wondered what was going on in Sam's head; little did he know his brother was dreaming about a girl he just saw...If he did, he would have laughed, the first time since ages.


End file.
